


Avoiding A Good Villain Trope

by kineticallyanywhere



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, no shipping just geek talk, three nerds in one place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5841145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kineticallyanywhere/pseuds/kineticallyanywhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meeting of mechanical engineers. Cisco drops by Felicity's office and ends up in Curtis' lab. Awkward conversation ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avoiding A Good Villain Trope

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over the winter break, so - as per denial and setting - it takes place after the Legends episodes and before the mid-season finales. Posted it on tumblr yesterday and have since spent the time figuring out how posting here works.
> 
> My first posted fic on this site! Cheers!

Felicity’s office was boring. Cisco thought a CEO’s office ought to be full of fascinating little desk ornaments or deep dish dirt to discover. Either he had been wrong, or it was really apparent how much time Felicity wasn’t spending in her own office.

Her WiFi was slower than it needed to be, Cisco couldn’t find the router anywhere in the room to fix it, and the only thing she had on her computer were company files and an old Pac-Man emulator. Granted, he did have a little fun hacking her computer and seeing the confetti animation she’d prepared for him after he’d managed to hack it. It had recorded the amount of time it took him to hack in, too. He couldn’t figure out how to get into that program though. She didn’t care about how many of her emails he read or how badly he beat her Pac-Man high score, but she quadruple encrypted the program that held his hacking time. Probably so she could brag later about how much better he could have done it if he was her.

Spinning around in the chair got boring. Ogling the view out the window got boring, and scribbling new designs for a better office chair on her notepad got boring.

Then a message went off on Felicity’s computer.

Curtis: Picking up lunch from Paul downstairs, locking up the lab, be back soon. Text me if you need anything.

Cisco’s head tilted curiously. _Lab_?

He tapped away at Felicity’s computer until he found a map of the building. There was half of a floor, right below his feet, labeled “Curtis’s lab”. A lab. One floor away.

What _kind_ of lab?

Cisco looked up through the glass doors. Still no sign of Felicity. He slid out of her chair, stepped around her desk like he might wake a sleeping bear, and peered out the door and around the corner to the elevator lobby. No sign of Felicity. He stepped out of her office fully and pressed the elevator button. He glanced over his shoulder. Nobody there but him. He stepped into an empty elevator like his foot was his hand and the car was a cookie jar.

The doors slid closed and he fist pumped to his own achievement. He went to press the button for the floor below but when he did there was an unexpected _boop_ noise. A keypad next to floor buttons lit up, asking for a pass code or a thumb print. Cisco huffed.

 _Please_.

—-

Felicity’s office was empty when she got back from a late lunch with Oliver. Usually it might have been a relief coming back from a break and not having at least three nervous employees wanting to ask her a question, but she had an ominous feeling in her gut that she was forgetting something. She put her bag down and stared suspiciously at her desk.

Not that she paid attention to the exact way she left her things all the time, but her chair was slightly farther away from the desk that usual and the keyboard was turned at the wrong angle and was that a drawing of a chair on her notepad? No, that was a _schematic_ of a chair in her notepad. And it looked like someone had unlocked her compute—oh god Cisco was coming today.

She was supposed to help him rewire the cave tonight and she was going to grill him about just how much was going on in Central City she hadn’t gotten updates on and he was going to shove copper wires in her face and Thea was going to bring popcorn and oh god he’d already been here where was he now.

She finally focused on the windows left open on her computer. A map of the building – oh no did he find the router – and a message from Curtis –

 _The lab_.

—-

Christmas had come early for Cisco Ramon, because – _alablado sea El señor_ – this Curtis guy was a mechanic. He got past the pass code in the elevator easy thanks to the list of codes on Felicity’s computer he’d stared at for five minutes out of boredom. Then beep-beep-boop, _Feliz Navidad_ Cisco, there was enough to occupy his curiosity for the next two days. Not that he’d gotten more than seven minutes, but those seven minutes had been _da bomb_.

He’d been looking over some schematics on some sort of contact lens tech that had clearly never seen the ATOM suit or a bee-bot when footsteps approached from behind him. They were clearly trying to be quiet and sneak up on him, but he heard them anyway. When he turned around to see who it was he figured it was because the guy was possibly taller than Barry and wore running shoes to work that he hadn’t been able to hide his footsteps.

The guy froze, deer caught in the headlights. He wasn’t hefting a fire extinguisher or anything though, just a brown lunch bag, so Cisco figured he was safe. He said, “Hi.”

“Hi,” the guy responded.

They stared at each other for a moment and Cisco noticed the lunch bag again. He pointed to it, remembering the message from Felicity’s computer. That felt like forever ago. “You must be Curtis!”

Curtis nodded, cautiously.

Cisco pointed to himself. “I’m Cisco. I’m friends with your boss. I mean, I assume she’s your boss. Since you work here. Assuming you work here and your not just…borrowing space.” Cisco realized he was rambling like Felicity. “Wow, now I’m doing it. Is it the building, now that she owns it and all? Do you do this rambling thing?”

Curtis leaned back his head and squinted at Cisco through his glasses. “When you say you’re _friends_ with my boss, do you mean, like, share embarrassing karaoke stories and do double dates kind of friends, or…” he lifted his fingers to air quote, “ _friends_?”

Cisco squinted back. “You mean like in the movies when the bad guy waits around the hero’s house and their family gets home first?”

“And they say they’re friends to lure the family into a false sense of security –“

“While the bad guy waits to pull out the gun when the hero gets back?”

Curtis nodded.

Cisco shook his head. “Naw, man, you’re safe. I have a personal thing against making guns, so…” Cisco tapped the schematics he was still holding against his other hand. In an attempt to change topic, he asked, “You make all this stuff? I’m digging these contacts but I might have a few suggestions.”

Curtis hadn’t let his guard down though. Not that his guard was anything like Captain Colds or the Arrows, but it was noticeable. “That’s exactly what the bad guy would tell me.”

Cisco set the schematics down on a desk. “I admire your devotion to avoiding a good villain trope.”

“Thank you.”

“Cisco!”

Neither of them had heard the elevator ding, but Felicity’s voice was loud and clear. As was the click if her heels on the tile as she marched over and put a hand on Curtis’s shoulder. She looked less like she’s stepped out of an elevator and more like she’d run a marathon. “Curtis,” she said, and held out her other hand toward Cisco, “this is Cisco Ramon. Cisco, Curtis Holt.”

“So he’s not gonna start throwing cards made out of his skin at my face?” Curtis asked.

“No, he’s harmless. Mostly.”

Cisco passed over the low-key insult completely and gasped. “You met Double Down?”

“Double Down?”

“The guy who threw cards at us,” Felicity translated.

Curtis nodded. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a meeting. I got a concussion.”

Cisco winced in sympathy. “Ouch. Been there. Anyway, can you tell me if the cards changed as he drew them? Like, was he always pulling a queen of hearts off his forearm and a jack of spades off his neck, or could he get a whole deck from one spot?”

Curtis shrugged defensively. “I don’t know! I was a little busy trying not to die.”

Cisco slumped. “Bummer. Hey if he comes back, can you check? Like, maybe ask before he starts throwing. He sounded like a guy who’s willing to have pre-fight banter.”

Curtis turned to Felicity with a desperate and confused look.

“Sorry,” Felicity said. “He’s from Central City, metahumans are just Tuesday for him. He loses perspective sometimes.” She sent him a glare which he took about as well as Caitlin’s usual set of stern looks. Rethink your weird-meter, salvage your reputation, try again.

So he added, “And Wednesdays. And Thursdays. There’s no avoiding it, really.”

Felicity’s glare kicked up a notch so he reevaluated again and shut his mouth.

“So,” she said. “Why didn’t you just wait in my office?”

“Dude, I got here more than an hour ago. It’s boring in there. I can only kill so much time hacking your computer.”

“So you broke into my lab?”

Cisco gestured to the _room full of gorgeous tech_. “This is what I _do_. And it’s not really breaking if you have the password from the boss’s computer.”

“Speaking of what you do,” Felicity said. She stepped toward Cisco and planted a hand on his shoulder. “I just need to wrap up a few things in my office, and we can head out to go work on…that.”

“Can’t I just wait here? I was hoping to—“

“Nope.” She grabbed his jacket and started to drag him across the floor. He tried to dig his heels in but his feet started slipping. Dang, was she working out with Oliver now?

“But the toys!”

“They’re not toys, Cisco, they’re million dollar investments.”

Cisco gasped in mock-hurt. “When did the corporate ladder corrupt you? You could always just ask for me to build you stuff, like the team does, instead of cheating on me with other engineers.” He turned to Curtis. “No offense, man.”

Curtis stared at them dumbly. “None…taken—did you say team?”

Felicity stopped in her tracks and Cisco almost fell over. Hair flipped as they turned to give each other mirror looks of panic.

“Are you on Team Arrow, too?”

Cisco gaped at Curtis for a moment before raising his eyebrows at Felicity. “’Too?’”

Felicity rolled her neck in a huge circle in some sort of exasperated, embarrassed motion. She sighed and said, “He knows I work with the Green Arrow, he’s helped out a time or two.” She snapped a hard look to Cisco and pushed a finger under his nose. “ _Code names only_.”

Cisco held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I got it. I know the Identity Deal, it’s chill.” He gently lowered her hand from his face. “But should we have used my codename instead, or should we just let it drop? I feel like we’re crossing a line.”

Felicity stuttered. “Since—what—“

“So you are on Team Arrow! Felicity doesn’t have a codename,” He turned to her, “I though you said tech support never gets codenames.”

Felicity made an offended noise.

“First of all, they wish I was Team Arrow. Then they wouldn’t have to wait for me to visit them – or, heaven forbid, actually come visit us – for me to make their toys. Second –“

“You make your teams equipment?” Curtis interrupted excitedly.

Cisco nodded, a little happy for the chance to brag. “Yes, but, to reiterate-“ he held up a Vulcan greeting “-Central City chapter. This city doesn’t have a monopoly on superheroes.”

“So the Canary Cry?”

“One of my favorites.”

“The trick arrowheads?”

“Ol—“ Felicity redirected almost as fast as Barry’s feet “The Green Arrow won’t let him near them.”

Cisco lifted his chin proudly and leaned against the desk behind him. “I wore him down.”

Felicity gaped at him. “You mean?”

Cisco nodded. “Super magnet heads? You’re welcome.”

Felicity looked like she could have kissed him until she seemed to backtrack, shaking her head. She thumped him in the arm instead. “How did you get a codename? You never leave the lab.”

“Ow,” Cisco rubbed his arm where she _bruised_ it. “Okay, I _do_ leave the lab. Occasionally. And all metas get codenames.”

Cisco tried not to be offended by the way Curtis flinched. It was fair, his only experience with a meta was an assassin. Besides after working through everything with Kendra, hearing himself say it wasn’t so bad anymore.

Felicity put a hand on her face and sighed. “I totally forgot,” she woed.

Cisco shrugged. “It’s not like I run through time or grow wings.”

“Yeah but I should have…”

Cisco got that she was probably referring to missing his comment about metahumans being an everyday thing for him. They’d talked a bit about him hiding his powers for so long, but it hadn’t exactly been a sit down and talk it all out kind of moment. “It’s been a long week,” He said.

Curtis was looking back and forth between them and was gracious enough to let them have a quiet moment before he spoke up. “Can I ask…?”

“What can I do?”

“Yeah.”

“No, it’s incredibly rude. Like asking a ghost how they died,” Cisco told him in utter deadpan.

Curtis squirmed. “Oh, uh…”

“I’m kidding,” Cisco told him and he laughed nervously. “I’m psychic.”

Curtis looked like he was about to say, “Seriously?” but Felicity thumped him on the arm. Right on the bruise. “Quit messing with him.”

“Ow, okay, okay.” He rubbed his arm. Back to Curtis, he said, “No not seriously, psychics don’t exist. I’m multidimensionaly clairsentient.”

Felicity hit him again.

“ _Ow_ , I was being serious that time!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Felicity grimaced. “To be fair that sounded ridiculous.”

“Don’t you have capitalist schemes to work out, instead of abusing me?”

“Right! Just—“ She made a flailing motion with her hand like she was going to grab his jacket again, then stopped herself, then made some sort of dismissal wave. “Just wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” On her way put the door, she turned and pointed at Cisco accusingly. “Don’t break the investments.”

Cisco raised his hands in surrender.

Then she was back in the elevator, and Cisco and Curtis were alone again. Pretty much back where they started, but this time Curtis wasn’t expecting Cisco to try and kill him. … Cisco was pretty sure.

Curtis was shaking his head and staring at something invisible.

“What is it?” Cisco asked. Suddenly self-conscious, he wondered, “Is it the metahuman thing? Because – you gotta know – we’re not all psychos. I mean, I can go wait with Felicity, if-“

Curtis shook his head harder in response and he said, “Oh! Naw, it’s okay, just…clairsentient l get, but multi… So if I were to put my hand behind my back and ask you how many fingers I was holding up, would you only be able to see it if my hand was in another dimension, or is it referring to you seeing behind my back by looking through a forth dimension?”

Cisco just looked at him, dumbfounded.

Curtis shifted uncomfortably. “Was that a weird thing to ask?”

Cisco startled himself out of since when he barked a laugh. He laughed. About his powers.

A little more normal every day.

“No,” He said, shaking his head. “Honestly I’m still figuring out how it works, myself. Cai—our doctor has actually been calling my powers “dimensional awareness and retrocognition”.”

“There’s the word dimension again. But we-“ he took in a slow breath and asked, “Do we live in a multiverse?”

Cisco hoped his grin didn’t look too pained. If it did, Curtis didn’t pick up on it. He was too busy freaking out, stepping in a tight circle and spewing a string of words to himself that Cisco didn’t really hear. He knew the feeling though. Too bad the magic of it all had been wrecked for him by visions of Zoom. Maybe when the whole Zoom fiasco was over he could get that magic back. There had to be plenty of not–evil things about E-2. It wasn’t like Zoom and Harry were the only things it had spit out. It spat out Jay, too. And, rumor had it, Atlantis. Couldn’t wait to drop _that_ bomb on Curtis.

Curtis calmed down enough to turn back to his interrogation. “So you, what, see other universes?”

“Uh-huh.”

Curtis bounced on his toes. “Oh man I have so many questions. Oh, and what exactly is retrocog—“

“Alright Mr. Holt, Daily Planet,” Cisco interrupted. He pointed to the brown bag that had been abandoned at some point on the desk, next to the contact prototypes. “How about you eat your lunch, and _I_ get to ask _my_ questions. Namely,” He stepped around to the other side of the desk and plopped down on a swiveling stool, “have you ever seen a bee-shaped micro-bot?”


End file.
